


Play

by rakketyrivertam



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Action Figures, Children playing, Family, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Transformer Sparklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23094310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rakketyrivertam/pseuds/rakketyrivertam
Summary: "The Decepticons and Quintessons have the Autobots surrounded!"
Relationships: Bluestreak & Jazz & Prowl (Transformers), Jazz/Prowl
Comments: 27
Kudos: 96





	Play

“’Die, Prime!’ _Pew-pew-pew-pew-pew-pew! Pew! **Pkshaow!**_

“‘This ends here, Megatron! One shall stand, one shall fall!’

“’Yes, Prime! And you’re going to fall! Because I brought… the Quintessons!’

“’Ah!’ ‘Oh, no!’ ‘Help us, help us!’

“’Prowl, run some calculations!’

“’Argh! Numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers! In conclusion, we’re all going to die!’”

Jazz burst into laughter at the scandalized look on his bondmate’s faceplates.

Bluestreak huffed and looked up, frowning. “This is very serious, Jazz. The Decepticons and Quintessons have the Autobots surrounded!”

Jazz slid down to the floor, grinning. “Well, can’t Jazz and Mirage sneak behind enemy lines and blow them all up?”

Bluestreak shook his head and pointed to the side where he had piled the ‘dead’ action figures. “They were battling Soundwave and pushed him into lava, but he grabbed them and pulled them in with him!”

Jazz gasped and held a hand over his spark, flopping over dramatically. “Oh, no, not the lava!”

Bluestreak cackled and clambered over his plating. “Yes, the lava! And then the lava monsters ate you!”

“Ahhhhh! Help me, Prowler, help me! A lava monster’s got me!”

Prowl sighed and knelt down next to his mate’s helm, cupping his face in his hands. “I promise to say nice things at your funeral.”

Jazz squeaked in indignation. “Get him, Blue!”

Bluestreak gave a mighty battle cry and launched himself at his creator. “The lava monster’s got you, now, too!”

Prowl grunted as he was knocked on his back then grinned. “Oh, really? Because my calculations indicate a lava monster’s greatest weakness is… tickling!” His digits dove for sensitive seams and Bluestreak shrieked and wiggled.

“Autobot down! Autobot down!” Bluestreak yelled. He flopped over, offlining his optics. “I’m dead. I'm dead, I'm dying. The tickle monster killed me. Jazz, come closer.... There's something I have to tell you.... Give me a good funeral, okay? Hrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrk-bleh!”

Jazz stood and put a solemn hand over his heart, wiping away an imaginary tear. “Here lies Bluestreak, best sparkling ever.”

“I’m not a sparkling anymore!”

“Shhhh,” Jazz said, grinning, “dead people don’t talk.”

Bluestreak huffed and sat up. “Fine, you got me, I’m alive.”

“Oh, good,” Jazz said, “I was afraid I was going to have to eat all these rust sticks by myself.”

“Rust sticks!”

“Ah,” Prowl said, “only one. And you need to clean up your toys first.”

“Okay, I’m cleaning!” Bluestreak scrambled to put the action figures back in their bin. He paused for a second as he picked up the Quintesson space ship. “How _would_ you defeat the Quintessons, Prowl?”

“Well, apparently, first I’d go ‘Argh! Numbers, numbers, numbers, numbers!’” Prowl said, swinging Bluestreak up onto his hip. “Do I really sound like that?”

Blue giggled and nodded. “Only all the time.”

Prowl sighed. “Ah, well, as long as it’s consistent. So after I did that, I’d probably tell Wheeljack to make a really big bomb.”

“Like really huge big?”

“Yep, really huge big.”

“But wouldn’t that kill the Autobots?”

“Not if Trailbreaker used his forcefield.”

“Oh,” Bluestreak said, frowning. “I don't have a Trailbreaker.”

“Well,” Jazz said. “Now you know who to ask Wheeljack for next. Rust stick?” He held out two.


End file.
